


Woven Together

by BarPurple



Series: Unbound [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Dom!Belle, F/M, Japanese Rope Bondage, Kink Negotiation, Porn With Plot, Shibari, sub!Gold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:02:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9540764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: A simple little incident at the town sports day sparks something deeper in Gold.-= Winner of 2018 TEA - Smut Kink =-





	1. Chapter 1

He had no idea how he’d been talked into this, he’d only come to watch Henry in the town sports day, a spectator cheering on his grandson that was the plan, but now he found himself with his good leg tied to the librarian at the start line of a adults three legged race.

They didn’t win of course, but Henry’s proud smile made up for the loss of dignity. As the crowd moved on to watch the next event Gold’s problems really began. Miss French, still laughing and breathless, bent at the waist to untie them. Gold averted his eyes from the tempting curve of her arse, but couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through him as her fingers brushed against his trouser leg while untying the knot. She straightened up, her face flushed and a smile on her lips.

“Thank you Mister Gold. I’m sorry I slowed you down.”

He was watching her run the cord through her fingers, it was hypnotic.

“I’m certain I was the dead weight, Miss French, but it made Henry happy.”

Her nimble fingers looped the cord into a perfect knot. He couldn’t drag his eyes away; a foggy image began to form in his mind that knot against his skin…

“Grandfather! Come the next race is starting!”

Gold hurriedly blinked away the image, he’d not thought about such things in years. He focused his full attention on his grandson. 

“I’ll be there in a moment Henry.”

He gave Miss French a curt nod and limped away. Belle watched him go with a curious gaze.

 

The next week was torture for Gold. Every time he saw Miss French she was fiddling with a cord, working it into elaborate knots, threading it through her fingers, or winding it about her wrist. He told himself that she had no idea the effect her new habit was having on him, how could she, no one in town knew of his past indulgences. No matter how much he pushed the thoughts away that silken cord encroached into his waking and sleeping moments. He’d had more cold showers in the past week that he had since he was a teenager, (he’d spent a lot of time in another typically teenaged activity, but he was trying not to think about that). It was a passing phase, nothing but an old memory stirred up, it would pass. 

As was his habit on Thursday he closed up the pawnshop and crossed the street to the library. He knew he’d see Miss French and she’d probably be playing with a cord again, but he determined to prove to himself that his fascination was fading. 

Less than ten minutes later he rushed back into his shop, and with shaking hands pulled the bottle of scotch he kept for emergencies from the cupboard. He swore as he fumbled the cap free and drank a shot direct from the bottle. The spirit burned his throat making him gasp. Belle French had been sitting at the circulation desk reading a book on shibari. His face still felt hot from the blush that had risen on his face. He groaned as he recalled her cheeky smirk, his incoherent stammering and rapid departure. Way to go, Gold. He may as well have worn a sign declaring his kink to the world. He sobbed and took another slug from the bottle.

 

By Friday morning, after much coffee, Gold had come up with a plan. He would simply pretend the incident in the library had never happened. If Miss French ever brought it up he would say that he had suddenly felt ill. His carefully thought out plans did nothing to stop his stomach twisted into a knot as Miss French walked into his shop late in the afternoon. She glanced around to ensure the shop was empty apart from the two of them.

“Mister Gold. I would like to make a mutually beneficial deal with you.”

He felt sick, he should have expected this, but he’d never thought that Belle French of all people would try to blackmail him. He swallowed once and slid behind a mask of indifference.

“I doubt you have anything I want Miss French.”

A flash of uncertainty crossed her face, but she continued with; “I enjoy the art of shibari. I’m very good at it, but I don’t have anyone to tie.”

Gold blinked hard, he’d not been expecting that. It took him a moment to find his voice. 

“Perhaps we could discuss this over dinner?”


	2. Chapter 2

They went to Toni’s for dinner. Gold requested his usual corner booth because it was tucked out of the way and would give them privacy, when Toni himself asked if this was a date Belle smartly answered; “Town council business.” Gold was grateful for her quick thinking; nobody would want to eavesdrop on a conversation about building repairs and budget allocation. 

Oddly enough that was exactly what they talked about while they placed their orders. Gold was so relaxed in Belle’s company that he’d almost forgotten what they were really here for until she asked: “Is being bound all about the happy ending for you?”

Gold covered his nervous cough with his napkin and picked his words with care.

“That situation often arises, but it is not the ultimate goal for me.”

“What is your goal?”

Gold took a moment to examine his fingernails, and very quietly said: “Sub space.”

He snapped his head up as he spoke so he could watch her reaction. There was no look of cruel glee, no look of sneering judgement, (he’d seen both in the eyes of the few others he’d revealed this side of himself to). Belle simply looked understanding and thoughtfully.

“This is an emotional act for you.”

Gold nodded. This was the part that those few others had difficulty understand, being bound was relaxing for him, it was soothing and comforting, the sexual side was almost a by-product. He needed to know what Belle expected out of this.

“And…and for you, is there a happy ending element in this for you?”

A blush coloured her cheeks making her look even more beautiful in the candle light.

“To borrow your phrase the situation can arise, but for me it’s more about a creative release.”

Sexual release wasn’t off the table then, but it wasn’t the primary goal for either of them. That was a relief it a way. It was something he’d not actually considered over the past week. He wouldn’t push for his own release to be part of the scene but the idea of being permitted to witness Belle come undone, perhaps be part of causing that to happen was as tempting as it was terrifying. Belle cleared her throat and brought him out of his mussing.

“Perhaps we should focus on the mechanics for now and address that aspect later?”

Gold was finding this surprisingly easy, very probably because Belle was skilfully phrasing their main topic of discussion in pseudo business language. A slight smile curled his lips as he extended her metaphor.

“We will need to draw up a contract.”

Belle nodded earnestly.

“I wouldn’t proceed any other way. There are several basic templates we can use as a starting point, but I would prefer we customise to our needs as much as possible.”

“On that we are in total agreement Miss French.”

Belle nodded and pulled out a notebook and pen.

“Do you mind if I make notes?”

Gold glanced around nervously. The high back of the booth protected them and if she was scribbling notes this would look more like a business meeting to a casual observer. 

“Please do.”

“Do you have a preferred material?”

“Cotton, I’m not opposed to silk, but hemp is a hard no.”

“Other hard nos?

Gold swallowed a sip of wine, his throat felt thick. He’d forgotten the shivery feeling of anticipation that this sort of conversation produced. Belle was waiting for an answer, he leaned forward carefully making sure his tie didn’t fall into his food.

“No humiliation, no stress positions and nothing around my right leg.”

Belle glanced at the cane leaning against the edge of the table. Gold walked with a limp although nobody knew why. She wasn’t sure if it was his ankle or knee that was damaged.

“Is kneeling also out?”

He gave her an apologetic nod.

“I realise I bring a lot of limitations to this arrangement. I’ll understand if you don’t wish to continue.”

He hoped that she wouldn’t back out, he felt confident that she would be discreet if they chose not to progress, but he so badly wanted this to happen.

“You requirements are perfectly acceptable, Mister Gold. I assure you I can be very inventive.”

Her slight smirk and the glimmer in her eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

“How do you feel about photographs?”

He almost chocked at the suggestion. He was under no illusions about his own attractiveness; with him as the model even the most elegant rope work would look poor. Then there was the possible blackmail element to consider.

“That would be a no.”

“Good, I’m not a fan of taking them, but some people like the memento,” She made a note and gave him a serious look, “Now safety. I will always have several pairs of bandage scissors on hand. Do you have a safe word?”

“Spinner.”

Belle wrote that down and underlined it, he smiled as she muttered the word to herself.

“I would also like to use the traffic light system, are you familiar with that?”

“Green is carry on, yellow for pause and red for immediate stop.”

“Now red or spinner will result in me instantly cutting you free.”

Belle suddenly covered her notebook with her napkin. Gold glanced up to see Toni approaching, somewhere during their conversation they had both finished their main course.

“Dessert?”

“I think I could be persuaded to a tiramisu.”

Gold placed their orders with Toni and waited until the man was out of earshot.

“Erm, I believe location is the next topic.”

Belle moved her napkin and consulted her notebook. From Gold’s angle he thought there was actually something else on her list first, but she tapped her pen against a word further down the page.

“Where would you like to conduct our sessions?”

It was tempting to suggest his house, but nobody but family had visited his home in a very long time, perhaps a little distance would be a sensible option to begin with. A hotel would be perfectly impersonal, but would present its own logistical problems.

“Would my shop be an acceptable location, after business hours of course?”

Belle pressed her hand to her mouth and smothered a little giggle.

“Sorry, I just had a strange mental picture of you conducting business while tied to a chair. Sorry, of course after hours.”

Her mental image could have triggered a panic attack, but the way she said it actually made him smile and imagine the look of discomfort on the face of Mayor Mills for example, or the flustered shock on the face of the school teacher Mrs Nolan. Toni arrived with their deserts and walked slowly away with a strange look on his face. Gold wasn’t too concerned; it was a rare sight to see anyone giggling in his company after all.

They focused on eating for a moment, Belle making the most sinfully wonderful sounds as she took her first bite. She delicately dabbed her mouth with her napkin and said; “The only other important topic we need to discuss is aftercare.”

Gold anxiously poked his dessert. For some reason he felt more embarrassed about this aspect than asking her to tie him up.

“I… erm, I like to cuddle afterwards.”

Belle reached for his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. The contact was brief but it sent a flame of desire through him.

“I do too, but there will also be a practical massage and soothing balm in case of rope burn, okay?”

“Yes, thank you Belle.”

They finished their meal and Gold picked up the tab.

“My treat tonight.”

“My treat next time then.”

Oh that was a nice idea that they would share a meal again. Before they parted outside Belle turned to him and rocked on her heels for a moment.

“Would tomorrow be too soon?”

“No, that would be ideal.”

“Good. The library closes at seven, I can be at the shop at half past?”

He could only nod in response. Belle gave him a little wave and headed off down the street to her home. Gold was kicking himself for not offering to drive her the two blocks, but he couldn't think straight at the moment. He glanced at his watch and gulped, in less than twenty-four hours Belle French would be tying him up.


	3. Chapter 3

Gold spent most of Saturday preparing the back room of his shop for Belle’s visit. He dusted, rearranged furniture, carefully tidied away the chemicals he used for restoration and finally nipped home for a shower around four in the afternoon. 

When he’d got home last night he dug out the lengths of cotton rope that he’d used the last time he’d been bound. He’d been surprised to find a brand new pack of blue rope that he couldn’t recall purchasing, that went into the bag too, he wasn’t sure if Belle would be bringing her own rope, but this way they would have options. He had two pairs of bandage scissors that he also packed. Considering the length of the conversation he and Belle had had over dinner, they had failed to cover many of the fine details. It wasn’t unusual in his experience, but it did nothing to soothe his fluttering nerves.

Freshly dressed and back in town he swung by the pharmacy and picked up a bottle of aloe Vera lotion, if Tom Clarke had any comment on that he wisely kept it to himself. He also dropped into the grocery store and got some bottled water and oranges, which he’d always found to be the best post session snack. He stepped out of the store and bumped into his grandson and daughter-in-law.

“Hi Grandfather! Are you going camping?”

Gold laughed at Henry’s innocent question about the duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He ruffled the lad’s hair.

“No lad I just needed a few things from home for a repair I’m working on at the shop.”

Henry hopped from foot to foot.

“Can I help? You said I could help with the next repair.”

He kept the flash of panic from his face, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

“I said the next appropriate repair, this one is very complicated and I need to use some tricky chemicals.”

From the corner of his eye he caught the slight tilt of Emma’s head; the woman was a human lie-detector, a useful skill for a sheriff, but a right pain in the arse in a daughter-in-law, especially since Gold would rather chew broken glass than publicly admit to what was really going to be happening in the backroom of his shop tonight. Henry pouted a little at Gold’s refusal, but then wrinkled his nose.

“Stinky stuff like that sheep thingy?”

“Aye lad, like lanolin, and worse.”

“You better have a shower before you come for dinner tomorrow.”

Gold chuckled; “I will do, don’t you worry.”

He exchanged a few pleasantries with Emma before saying goodbye to them both and heading towards his shop. He was almost certain that Emma could have no idea what he was hiding. It would be quite the shot in the dark for her to know what his bag contained. Back in the shop he had a moment of giddy laughter, he felt like a teenager who’d successfully pulled the wool over their parents’ eyes. It was a ridiculous feeling; he was a grown man about to engage in a safe, sane and consensual activity with another adult, but the feeling of doing something naughty wouldn’t leave him. It was the taboo nature of kinks and sex he supposed.

He pottered around fussing with things that didn’t really need doing until at twenty past seven there was a knock on the side door. He took a moment to straighten his tie and opened the door. Belle was standing there with a large handbag slung over her arm.

“Good evening Belle.”

“Good evening Mister Gold.”

As she stepped inside it occurred to him that he’d never told her his first name. 

“Gordon. My first name is Gordon.”

“Gordon. I like that.”

He hid his blush as he locked the door. He turned around to find Belle examining the ropes he’d laid out on his work bench. She appeared dismissive of the white, but was fingering the blue with interest. She nodded to herself and began to unpack her own bag. Gold moved closer as she laid several lengths of new rope next to his. Each was still in its packaging and one was a deep gold colour, that couldn’t be coincidence could it; that she had a rope in his namesake hue? She must have sensed his curiosity.

“I placed an online order after the sports day.”

His eyebrows rose at her explanation, “You were so confident you had identified a fellow enthusiast?”

“I was hopeful.”

That she’d purchased this rope especially for him made his stomach do a little flip. She pulled out a bottle of aloe Vera lotion identical to the one he’d just bought, no less than four pairs of bandage scissors, several bottles of water, sparkling and still, as well as a few fruit flavoured options, she’d also bought a selection of pre-prepared fruit salads and energy bars. 

“There’s a little fridge in the kitchen nook, should I put these away?”

She helped him carry the refreshments and grinned when she saw his own selection already stored within. Once that little task was done she pulled a neatly hand written page from her bag.

“I know you appreciate a good contact so I wrote this up, if you’re uncomfortable with having our arrangement in writing we can shred this now.”

He took the page from her hand and looked at the beautifully written document she’d produced. Phrases like ‘shibari’ and ‘aftercare’ looked seductive in her light elegant script. He traced his finger over his safe word; ‘spinner’. Neither of their names were mentioned, this was not a document to be signed, this was simply a formalization of their conversation last night which allowed them both to know where they stood without losing anonymity should anyone else ever find this, (not that they would this was going to be locked in his safe).

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

She slipped out of her shoes and perched herself on the edge of his work bench.

“There were several areas we didn’t discuss last night that I’ll like to cover now.”

Gold sat himself on the ladder back chair he’d moved into the back room this morning. Belle’s eyes widened and her tongue darted across her lips, oh yes this had been a very good choice. His lips curled into a knowing smirk as she gave her head a little shake and composed herself.

“The first thing I’d like to clarify is levels of nudity. Would you be opposed to stripping to the waist?”

Gold shivered and shook his head.

“That would be preferable. I like to feel the ropes directly.”

“How long has it been since you were tied?”

“Years.”

“We’ll do something simple tonight,” She grinned at him, “I guess tying you to that chair will be enjoyable?”

It wasn’t just her Australian lilt that made that a question, Gold nodded in response and was delighted by the happy look on her face. She hopped down from the work bench and picked up the bandage scissors, Gold watched with curiosity as she placed them at strategic points around the room. If he safe worded out there would be a pair within reach no manner where she was, she was very good at this, there was nothing worse than a five minute scramble for scissors. As she walked by him she softly said; “Would you strip please.”

He stood up and a sudden thought occurred to him. 

“I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

Belle hummed a positive sound and carried on her preparations, she might have thought that he was going to strip in the bathroom, which he was partially at least, but he also intended to use the loo; he didn’t want to get caught short. He emerged a few moments later without his suit jacket, waistcoat or tie. Once he’d toed his shoes off he went to work on his shirt buttons.

“Damn it.”

Belle turned at his curse and saw his fingers were trembling and hindering him. She moved towards him.

“May I?”

He nodded and sighed as she worked his buttons free, with a sharp movement she tugged the tails free form his trousers and ran her hands over his chest to push the fabric off his shoulders. Gold shivered at her touch and was surprised when she hummed appreciatively at his bare chest

“Oh you are going to look wonderful tied up.”

He didn’t dare say anything; he didn’t want to risk some self-depreciating snark leaving his lips and under-mining her compliment. Her hands hadn’t left his skin, they were gently, but firmly mapping the contours of his shoulders and chest.

“Are you ticklish? Don’t worry I’m not planning on tickling you, I just want to know where to be careful.”

He didn’t think he’d mind her tickling him.

“I’m not that ticklish, should be fine.”

Belle smiled at him and jerked her head towards the chair.

“Shall we begin, Gordon?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Shall we begin, Gordon?”

He nodded eagerly and let Belle gently guide him into the chair. She moved to stand behind him, her hands smoothing over his shoulders and down on to his biceps. Knowing that rope would soon be wrapped around him soothed away his lingering nerves.

Belle noted that the muscles on his right arm were slightly more defined, not a surprise since that was the hand he held his cane in. She dropped her hands down to the crooks of his elbows and gently tugged his arms back. Gordon was pliant under her touch, allowing her to position his arms behind his back with ease. His arms crossed easily behind his back, but she lowered them so his wrists were crossed at the level of his lower back, that would put less pressure on his shoulders. He’d chosen this chair well; the narrow ladder back would not dig into his upper arms and gave her plenty of anchor points should she choose to use them.

“Can you hold this position for me, Gordon?”

“Yes Belle.”

There was already a dreamy quality to his voice. She crossed to the workbench and selected the gold rope; this one had featured heavily in her day dreams about tying Gold. She turned to face him and smiled at the hungry look in his eyes. 

“It will take me fifteen minutes to bind you. I am setting a limit of twenty minutes in the ropes for tonight and then I will cut you free. Do you understand Gordon?”

“Yes Belle.”

“Your safeword?”

“Spinner.”

“Colour, please.”

“Green.”

As they had been talking she unpackaged the rope, it was delightfully soft in her fingers. Having decided what she wanted to do she picked up a pair of scissors and cut the rope in half.

Gold swallowed as she approached him with one length of the rope in her hands. As she stepped behind him she let a loose end trail over his chest, pulling a groan from his throat that made her chuckle.

“Don’t hold back if you want to make noises Gordon.”

“Okay Belle.”

As she wound the rope around his wrists he sighed, he whimpered as she pulled the first knot secure.

“Colour?”

“Green.”

Belle nodded to herself that had been a happy noise then, it would take her a while to learn his unique reactions. She checked that the rope wasn’t too tight and began weaving the length between the vee formed by his forearms.

Gold was lost in a world of pure sensation; the warmth of Belle’s fingers, the soft tug of the rope over his skin, the slight pull as a knot was tied. He’d missed this, but he’d not realized how badly until now. He was so far into his own dreamy mental space that Belle had to repeat his name to get his attention.

“Gordon. Gordon?”

“Yes Belle.”

“Wiggle your fingers for me, please.”

He did as he’d been asked and flexed his hands into fists as well. The ropes strained against his movement and his head rolled back on his neck as he groaned in pleasure. Belle petted his hair, he nuzzled into her touch.

“I’m going to get the second rope now.”

He hummed an answer. Her hand stayed in contact with his skin until she had to step away to the work bench. Gold followed her progress with hooded eyes as she worked a double headed carrick in to the middle of the rope.

Belle took a moment to admire him, a familiar stirring of desire fluttering within her. She glanced at Gordon’s crotch and saw that she wasn’t the only one affected in this way. She gave herself a little shake and focused on centring the woven knot over his breastbone, the trailing ends looped through the ladder back of the chair. Belle was mindful not to pull to quickly and cause the ends to flick; getting whacked with a flying rope end was painful and a sure mood killer. 

Gordon was right that he wasn’t very ticklish, but as she worked the rope around his sides and through the loops of the carrick she found a spot that made him giggle, an actual giggle; it was the most endearing sound she’d ever heard, but she had to make sure that he wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Colour?”

“Green, oh so very green-ety-green.”

Belle had to chuckle a little. To look at Gold on the street she never would have suspected that sub space sent him into giggly euphoria. She worked carefully and quietly for the next few minutes, enjoying the contrast of the rope against his skin, the breathy moans and sighs he made, and the sheer pleasure of sharing something that made her so happy with someone.

She secured the loose ends around his wrists and ran her hands up over his arms, noting the time on her watch. She did not want to leave him bound too long this first time. He flexed his muscles against the ropes, drawing a moan from her lips as they jumped under her touch. His head lolled back and he blinked as he tried to focus on her upside down face. She cradled the back of his head in her hands and moved slowly round to stand in front of him.

“I’m horny.”

Belle couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at his crotch. The bulge in his trousers was sizeable and she licked her lips.

“I can see that.”

“So are you.”

“I am yes.”

Gordon’s tongue swept over his lips and a slight crease appeared between his eyebrows as he tried to find the words he wanted. Belle waited patiently her hands never stopping their journey over the ropes and his skin.

“Use me.”

Those two words caused her hands to still one splayed over the carrick and the other on his bare shoulder.

“Say that again please Gordon.”

“Use me, for your happy ending. Use me.”

Belle’s breath stuttered in her chest. It was a very tempting offer; she’d never been so needy for sexual release while tying anyone before. The idea of straddling his lap and rubbing herself to orgasm against his stiff cock was almost overwhelming, but she had a duty of care; Gordon was deep in sub space, she couldn’t be sure of his full consent at the moment.

“Next time. For now I’d like to keep touching you. Colour?”

He was slower to respond, but he gave her a blissful smile when he said; “Green.”

For the next quarter of an hour the room was filled with the soft whisper of Belle’s hands over his bound body, gentle gasps and sighs, and the odd whimper when she brushed his nipples. Gordon was so responsive under her touch, wriggling and nuzzling into her hands, even at one point when she leaned in very close pressing his cheek against hers. It was with some reluctance that Belle pulled away.

“I’m going to cut you free now Gordon.”

He gave her a sad puppy look, but nodded his head. A few quick snips freed him from the chest harness, a few more and his arms were released. They flopped down at his sides.

“Pins and needles?”

“No, just floaty.”

She set the ropes aside and began rubbing his arms; her touch was brisker now as she wanted to ensure his circulation hadn’t been impaired.

“Could you hand me my cane?”

She did so swiftly and stood at his left side as he got to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist as he stretched like a contented cat. She took quick look at his chest, but could see no problematic marks before he draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close for a hug.

“Thank you, Belle. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you Gordon, now why don’t we get you settled on that very convenient day bed and I’ll get us some snacks?”

Belle returned from the kitchen to find Gordon seated on the day bed his socked feet wiggling in the air as he leaned back against the wall. She handed him a bottle of water and one of the oranges she’d peeled for him, and then hitched up her skirt so she could sit at his side and slip one leg between his back and the wall, the other she draped over his legs.

“So we can cuddle and eat.”

He hummed around a mouthful of orange at her explanation. As Belle relaxed her thigh nudged against Gordon’s now half hard cock. He tried to shift his hips back, but was stopped by her other leg.

“Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologise, I had a hand in getting it that way.”

“Aye, but you didn’t want to take it in hand to pleasure yourself.”

His hair bounced around his face as he turned sharply to look at her, panic on his features.

“I’m sorry, that was petulant and crude.”

She cupped his face with her hand.

“The only reason I didn’t straddle your lap and ride you like a pony was because you were in sub space when you offered. I didn’t want to do anything that you might later regret. If it is something you want then you better brace yourself next time because I will jump your bones.”

He stared at her for so long that Belle began to think she’d crossed a line. She rapidly replayed their conversation and tried to work out where she had gone wrong, which signs had she misread. She was formulating an apology when he gave her a crooked smile and said; “Boner bouncing Belle.”

They both snorted and dissolved into giggles, snuggling in closer to each other. All Gold could think was that Belle had been correct when she walked into his shop yesterday afternoon; this was a very mutually beneficial arrangement.


	5. Chapter 5

Gold woke on Sunday morning feeling refreshed, he lay in bed for a while recalling the joy of yesterday evening with Belle. He had briefly worried he’d spoiled everything with his petulant comment, but unlike many of the others who had tied him in the past she had been more concerned with his wellbeing and taken the time to explain the reasons behind her choices. That alone had extended his subspace high, they had giggled and cuddled for hours afterwards before he’d dressed and driven her home.

He rose and showered, a little disappointed to see that his skin was free from any marks, Belle had been very thorough in every aspect her aftercare, even giving him her cell phone number and insisting that he text her if he felt the slightest moment of subdrop once they parted. Perhaps she would be willing to mark his skin if he asked her? He didn’t want broken skin or scars, but a little redness or even a small bruise would be a nice reminder of their time together. 

As he dressed he pushed all thought of Belle French and her amazing rope skills to one side. Today he was having dinner with his family and that was enough to put a smile on his face.

Neal had the front door open before Gold had climbed out of the caddy.

“Hey Pops, bloody hell, you forget to finish getting dressed this morning?”

Gold glanced down at his outfit, true he’d left a few layers at home today, (suit jacket, waistcoat and tie), but he was more than respectable.

“It’s almost Spring, not like I’m naked, son.”

Their shared a brief hug as Neal ushered him into the house, “Henry is going on and on about how you still haven’t found a repair he can help with. What were you working on at the shop last night?”

Gold blinked away a mental flash of Belle holding the gold rope and calmly replied; “A set of Shaker chairs that had been covered in paint, not the sort of thing I want him near. I have found a very nice end table that needs sanding and painting, perfect for little hands.”

Neal laughed; “And something you’re never planning on selling, right?”

“Well if he covers it in dinosaurs I’d be a fool to let go of a Henry Cassidy Classic.”

Sunday dinner was the usual blend of family chaos. Emma teased Neal about the burnt roast potatoes, which Gold promptly declared as the best way to serve them. Emma and Neal glared at Gold when Henry loudly complained that without his suit jacket they had nowhere to hide green beans. Henry left the table before desert to get the school work he wanted to show his Grandfather and Emma took the opportunity to say; “Regina is in town this week, you want me to hook you two up on a blind date?”  
Neal sighed and shot his Pops an apologetic look as he refilled their glasses.

“No thank you. I’m perfectly happy as I am I don’t need to be set up with your step-grandmother.”

Emma tried to argue her point, but Neal hushed her, which Gold was eternally grateful for. The generations in the Nolan family were a bit different than in his own, Emma’s family had children earlier, so Gold was a similar age to Emma’s grandparents, but after what he’d heard about Emma’s step-grandma he was in no way inspired to become husband number two for her. The phrase black widow sprang to mind.

As evening rolled round and Gold took his leave from a sleepy Henry, Neal walked him to the door and said; “Emma means well Pops, her and her mom just like to see everyone paired off and happy, y’know?”

“I understand son, but I’m happy the way I am.”

Neal gave him a strange look, “Yeah, you know what, I think you are. G’night Pops.”

“G’night son.”

 

Gold slept well again that night. It was mid-morning on Monday that brought him problems. In the past when he’d allowed himself to be bound he’d always been very careful to indulge his desires in a distant city, he had never been in the situation where the person who had tied him up on Saturday night would be in the same diner as him getting coffee on Monday morning. How had he not considered this? How was he supposed to react around Belle, Miss French? His stomach dropped; what if she was one of those Doms who assumed that he would be a sub in every aspect of their interactions? Had he made it clear to her that he didn’t do that? In his panic he couldn’t remember. He had no time to run as she smiled and approached him.

“Good morning Mister Gold, I’m glad I’ve seen you, the next instalment of Henry’s comic book came in this morning, it carries a slightly higher warning than usual. I know he is very advanced for his age, but I was wondering if you would like to look it over before he checked it out?”

Gold’s knuckles turned white on the handle of his cane. She was talking about his grandson in her role as librarian, this had nothing to do with Saturday night, this appeared to be a sensible interaction, he could do this.

“It’s very kind of you to bring it to my attention Miss French. I’ll call by the library later and have a look to make sure it is appropriate for Henry.”

The slight frown told him she’d noticed his tight, clipped tone, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, explain himself here. Her sunny smile returned quickly.

“Whenever is convenient. Have a nice day Mister Gold.”

He drank his coffee at the counter rather than walk out of the diner just after her. He received a few strange looks from the staff, but the glare on his face dealt with those. How had he been so stupid and self-indulgent? He’d gone for years without being bound, why had he chosen someone so close to home to play with? But then again she’d not tried to order him to do anything, nor spoken to him in anything other than her normal tone. And he did appreciate her concern for Henry, she was wonderful like that with all the children in town. Was he worrying too much? Very probably. He would drop in to the library later and look at that comic book, and if the opportunity presented itself he would clarify a few points of their other interactions with Miss French.

 

Belle looked over her shoulder as she left the diner, normally Gold would take his coffee back to his shop, on several occasions they had chatted about literature on their shared part of the journey. He wasn’t coming out today, had she offended him in some way? 

By the time she reached the library she was wondering if he was one of those subs who expected their Dom to interact with them as such in every aspect of life. Had she not made it clear that she was only interested in their tying as a private activity? Her fingernails drummed anxiously against her cup as she replayed every conversation they had had about shibari. Had she been to forward in figuring out his enthusiasm for their shared interest? Yes, very probably, had that suggested that she was a full lifestyle Dom? Maybe? She’d experienced this once before with a woman she had tied, she had wanted much more than Belle was comfortable providing and that had terminated their relationship very quickly, and unfortunately rather messily. She truly hoped that it would not come to that with Gordon, Mister Gold, she was very happy with what they had shared on Saturday night. She’d even woken in the early hours of Sunday morning to look at other possible colours to bind him with, she had several bindings she would love to try with him. She could not, would not be a full time Dom for him. 

She would take the comic book across to his shop after closing, she really did want him to make sure it was appropriate for his grandson to read, and if she had the chance she would clarify a few points of their other activities as well.


	6. Chapter 6

Monday turned into one of those rare busy days in Gold’s pawnshop. The universe was conspiring against him so that each time he was about to cross the road to the library a customer walked in, or the phone rang. Finally at ten to six he walked out of the shop and firmly locked the door. He focused on the idea of looking over the Henry’s comic book; that was the important thing, of course he’d given serious thought as how to phrase any other discussion he might have with Miss French, but he would have to wait and see if the opportunity for such a conversation arose.

He was so focused that he walked straight into Belle as she was coming out of the library. His free hand shot out to steady her and came to rest on her waist; the feel of her brought a flash of their post session cuddle to the front of his mind, and took with it his ability to speak.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there Gor…Mister Gold.”

She sounded as flustered as he felt. He pulled his hand away and took a step back; the small space between them allowed him to find his voice.

“No matter Miss French. I also was distracted.”

She gave him a hesitant smile and held the comic book that was the source of his distraction.

“I noticed you were very busy this afternoon, so I was about to bring this over to you.”

Gold wasn’t sure what to do, he’d envisioned this meeting taking place inside, where they would have a chance to speak privately, his carefully thought out words were not suited to the sidewalk. She was clearly thinking along similar lines.

“Would you like to step inside Mister Gold? I tell the children not to read in the street, can’t have one rule for them and a different one for grown-ups.”

He smirked; “I seem to recall seeing you breaking that rule a time or two Miss French.”

It was such a common sight to see her walking along with her nose in a book that most of the town accepted it, and went out of their way to ensure her path was unobstructed.

She returned his smirk; “Ah, but I have librarian superpowers.”

He followed her inside. She paused as she closed the door behind them.

“Do you mind if I lock the door? It’s past closing time.”

“Oh no, please carry on.”

Miss French locked up and waved a hand toward the seating area.

“Take a load off, would you like a cuppa?”

He nodded his reply and settled himself into one of the leather armchairs to peruse the comic book. His grandson was currently obsessed with “Space Knights” a group of medieval knights who travelled in space defeating aliens and monsters. There were a lot of improbable laser sword duels and scatological humour all designed to appeal to seven year olds. This month’s offering was a little grosser than usual as the heroes fought a mucus monster. Gold made a note to talk to Henry about not sticking things up your nose as one of the knights had to do at one point.

“How’s it looking Gordon?”

Belle deposited the loaded tea tray on the coffee table. Gold closed the comic and placed it well away from anything that might spill.

“You are going to have to watch for the kiddies trying to stick things up their nose.”

She laughed and waved a hand toward the children’s section; “I’ve already prepared the cautionary tales.”

Gold peered at the titles and snorted when he spotted ‘Don’t Stick Sticks up Your Nose’ 

“I could have done with that when Neal was a bairn, he once shoved half a sponge up his nose because he thought it would cure his hay fever.”

They chuckled together as he told the story of Neal’s oddest childhood Emergency Room trip. Afterwards there was a beat of comfortable silence before Belle said; “I was worried we had a problem when I saw you this morning.”

Gold cleared his throat nervously and focused his attention on his near empty cup. He inhaled slowly and began laying out his carefully prepared explanation.

“I wasn’t sure how to act around you. I’ve never encounter someone who has tied me in a casual situation before.”

He glanced up and frowned slightly, Belle appeared tense, he wasn’t sure why, but this was the moment when he would discover if their arrangement would continue. He licked his lips and said calmly, but firmly; “I am not a full time sub, and I have no interest in becoming one.”

Belle sagged as she blew out the breath she’d been holding; “Thank heavens for that! I’m not a full time Dom. I was worried that you were expecting more than our rope sessions.”

Their eyes met, each searching for reassurance in the other. They found it and started laughing at their own apprehension and unfounded fears. They were still sitting on separate chairs, but the distance between them had closed. 

Gold gave Belle a hopeful smile; “Would you be free on Saturday, Belle?”

Her eyes lit up, “Yes. You do mean for rope fun don’t you?”

Gold nodded, and mirrored Belle’s answering smile.

“Wonderful. Help yourself to more tea while I get my shibari book, there are somethings I’d like to discuss with you. If you have time Gordon?”

He reached for the teapot and began to fix two fresh cups.

“I’m free all evening, Belle.”


	7. Chapter 7

Gold had been very excited by Belle’s shibari book. There were many poses that were impossible for him to get into, but Belle had simply asked him if he liked the rope work used and suggested ways she could adapt it to their needs. He’d been awed when she pulled out a sketch pad and outlined her ideas; she was skilled with the pencil, creating a wonderful image with a few simple lines. His jaw had actually dropped when she’d blushed at his honest praise for her skills and confessed that she would like to draw him during one of their sessions.

He’d asked for time to consider her request. He’d never had a record of his interest before, although he had the contract she had written out and he’d kept the carrack knot from their first session, but both of those were easy to dismiss as odd curios should they ever be questioned, and that would only ever happen if someone got into the private safe in his study at home. Belle’s artwork didn’t deserve that fate, from what he’d seen it should never be locked away out of sight, it was an extension of her soul, all lightness and joy it deserved to be gazed upon every day. He still couldn’t get his head around why Belle would want to draw him; he wasn’t exactly an attractive, well-muscled hunk. The odd thing was the more he thought about it the more the idea appealed to him. He’d told Belle he’d give her an answer on Saturday, so he had plenty of time to consider, and whatever he decided he could always change his mind at a later date.

Bumping into her in the diner on Wednesday morning was easier than in had been on Monday; they exchanged pleasantries while they waited for their coffee, still calling each other Miss French and Mister Gold, drawing only bored glances from the other patrons desperate for their morning caffeine fix and breakfast, because what was strange about the town librarian talking to a member of the town council? Belle was on friendly terms with practically the whole town, and everybody knew Gold would make an effort to be polite to anyone his grandson thought hung the moon. The change in their relationship, and the fact it was a secret between the two of them brought a smile to his lips as they talked, and sent a thrill down his spine when Belle returned the gesture.

The week carried on as normal, with Gold getting flashes of excited anticipation every time he noticed how close his date with Belle was getting. By Saturday morning he caught himself grinning like a fool every time he glanced at his watch. Just after lunch the door to his shop flew open and Emma hurried in, ushering a pale and sweaty looking Henry before her.

“Gold! You here?”

The sight of his sick grandson caused the mildly snarky response to his daughter-in-law’s greeting to die on his tongue. He rushed across the shop and knelt down in front of Henry, placing a hand on his clammy forehead.

“What’s the matter my boy?”

“I got Nicolas’ tummy bug.”

“His whole little league team has come down with it. Neal’s on his way back from Boston, Mom and Dad are up the coast for the day, so I’m the only one in the Sheriff’s office, could you watch him for a few hours until Neal gets home?”

“Of course I can. Go protect and serve, Henry and I will be fine.”

Emma sighed with relief and gave Henry a gentle hug.

“Thanks for this Gold. Take it easy kiddo, your Dad’ll be home in a while okay?”

“’kay Mom.”

Gold leaned on his cane and pulled himself to his feet as Emma left the shop. Henry gave him a drowsy look; “We’re not going to drive to your house are we?”

“Don’t think you tummy could take that?”

Henry shook his head sadly. Gold took his hand and led him to the back of the shop.

“In that case we’ll get you settled on the cot in the back.”

“What if I puke on something important?”

Gold chuckled; “There’s nothing that important back there at the moment, and we’ll get you a bucket just in case.”

Henry perked up a little once he was settled on the cot. He’d always thought the back of Grandfather’s shop was like a cave of wonders and being ill didn’t change that at all. He was halfway through asking about one of the antiques when he lurched forward and threw up in the bucket. Gold sat by his side rubbing his back while telling him to get it all up, grateful that he had a strong stomach and wasn’t going to join Henry in puking.

After swilling the bucket out he returned to Henry with a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Take that slowly.”

Henry nodded and took slow, deliberate sips.

“Miss French drinks this one.”

Gold twitched at the sound of Belle’s name coming from his grandson, but calmly said; “Does she now?”

He knew the answer to that of course; he bought this brand especially for their post session snack tonight since it was the one that Belle had brought with her last week.

“She does, has it in the library all the time.”

Henry was getting sleepy now; he snuggled into the pillows and blankets, the bottle of water tipping at a worrying angle in his lax hand. Gold eased it from his hand before it spilled and set it on the shelf near the bed. 

The lad slept peacefully for the next few hours, uninterrupted even by the few customers that came into the shop. Sean Herman got a stern whispered telling off for getting to loud when he disagreed with Gold’s appraisal of some jewellery he wanted to pawn. Gold wasn’t too concerned when the man snatched the items from the counter and stomped out of the shop; since he wasn’t sure Sean had permission from his girlfriend to hock the items in the first place. 

The next time the bell above door rang it was to herald Neal rushing inside so quickly he stumbled over his own feet and had to catch himself on the counter. Gold smiled fondly at his son.

“Always so graceful, son.”

“Get that from you Dad. How’s Henry?”

“He threw up and then fell asleep. Come on he’s in the back. I think he’s over the worst of it now.”

Having raised a child himself Gold should have known better then to tempt fate, he and Neal had barely stepped into the backroom when a bleary eyed Henry vomited all over himself and the bed. 

“I missed the bucket. I’m sorry.”

Both his father and grandfather hurried to reassure him that it was fine, these things happened. Neal took Henry into the bathroom to clean him up while Gold striped the bed, dumping the soiled blankets into a trash bag ready to be taken to the cleaners. The boys emerged from the bathroom, Henry now wearing his dad’s sweatshirt, Neal carrying Henry’s clothes in a bundle. Gold tenderly ruffled Henry’s hair.

“Feeling better now lad?”

Henry nodded and hugged his legs; “Sorry about the mess.”

Gold chuckled; “Dinne worry, your Dad once hurled up in the caddy.”

Henry’s eyes went wide he knew how much his Grandfather loved his car, “And you weren’t mad?”

“Not at all.”

Neal gave his Dad a disbelieving look, wondering if he remembered the time he’d made his hungover teenaged son clean the car inside and out after puking up in the back seat, although in his Dad’s defence that bout of puking was self-inflicted. 

“Come on Henry let’s get you home,” – Neal jerked his thumb at the bag of bedding, - “Want me to take that and wash it?”

Gold waved away his offer, “Don’t worry about it.”

After promising to visit Henry tomorrow, and not to bring any grapes because Henry hated them, Gold called Hubbard’s Laundry Service and asked them to pick up the bedding. As he was waiting for them to send someone, he opened the windows to air the room out. It occurred to him that he didn’t have any spare linen for the cot, and the odour of vomit wouldn’t clear for a few hours. With a sad sigh he dialled Belle’s number.

“Hello Gordon.”

“Good afternoon Belle. I will have to cancel our date tonight. Henry has been ill in the back room of the shop and let’s just say it’s not pleasant in here at the moment.”

“Oh.” 

Gold could almost hear her chewing her bottom lip as she thought.

“Well, if it’s only a matter of location we could meet at my apartment instead?”

Gold swallowed and stammered; “You’d let me into your home?”

“Of course, Gordon. We can have a cup of tea and you can decide if you are comfortable there, before we do anything else.”

His stomach flipped at her concern for his comfort, “Yes, that sounds like a plan.”

“Wonderful, you know where I live, I’ll see you at seven thirty as we planned?”

“Aye, seven thirty. I’ll see you then Belle.”

Once he’d hung up Gold stared at his phone in wonder at the kindness of the wonderful woman he’d been speaking to.


	8. Chapter 8

Gold had taken a through shower and spent twenty minutes picking out a shirt and tie, which seamed rather pointless when he considered what he and Belle were planning. He rolled his eyes at his reflection and tweaked his tie straight, he’d never found a situation yet where it hurt to look one’s best. And as he was to be a guest in Belle’s home manners dictated that he did not arrive empty handed. He’d briefly given thought to selecting a bottle of wine from his cellar, but since alcohol and shibari was not a good mix he’d opted for a specialist tea instead. Thankfully he had an unopened box a blend he hoped Belle would enjoy; a Ceylon mixed with pomegranate, vanilla and rose petals. 

The drive to the library was the same as his route to and from work, and he drove mostly on autopilot, his mind pleasantly blank and calm. It was only when he pulled up outside his shop that he felt the first flutters of nervousness. There was something inherently more personal about meeting at Belle’s apartment rather than in the back of his shop. Of course they would be on her home territory which was bound to account for some of the butterflies he was experiencing. He chuckled to himself as he got out of his car; he trusted Belle to tie him up for gods sake, as long as they had privacy the where didn’t really matter. The only butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he slung his duffel bag on his shoulder and set off toward the library were the delightful ones of anticipation.

Belle was tidy and organized by nature, but she’d spent the last hour cleaning her apartment in preparation for Gordon’s visit. As seven thirty approached she had been glancing out of the window that overlooked the pawnshop every few minutes. As soon as she spotted Gordon’s caddy pull up outside his shop, she skipped down the stairs to open the door for him. She’d spent several anxious moments waiting for his knock, and gave a start when it finally came. She took a quick breath and opened the door with a smile.

“Hello Gordon.”

“Good evening Belle.”

They both broke into shy smiles as they stood there drinking in the sight of each other. Gordon had clearly put some thought into his clothing choice, he always looked so well dressed, but Belle adored his deep red shirt, the shade boded well for her choice of rope this evening. She giggled when she realized that he was waiting to be invited inside.

“Please come in, Gordon.”

He stepped into the narrow hallway and closed the door behind him. Belle led him up the stairs, looking back at him over her shoulder to ask: “How’s Henry doing?”

“Sleeping from what Neal has told me. Best thing for him to recover, no doubt he’ll be fighting fit on Monday and bemoaning the fact that he was ill over the weekend and didn’t get any time off school.”

Belle chuckled: “But if he had missed school he would have moaned about that.”

“Oh aye.”

They reached the door to Belle’s apartment and she breezed inside. Gold hesitated for second and then followed her through the doorway. Belle’s home had her personality stamped all over it; books filled a large portion of the space, either on shelves or piled around the room. She caught his eye roaming over the piles and gave a little shrug; “I’ve not got round to buying another bookcase yet.”

He glanced around at the crowded walls; “You’re in the same position as me, I’m not sure where you’d fit another one.”

She tilted her head; “You have a lot of books too?”

“A lot of shelving, some with books, some with knick-knacks.”

Belle had an inkling that Gordon’s knick-knacks would probably be antiques, she imagined that his home would be an extension of his shop, all wonderful treasures and items with stories behind them. She suddenly realized she wasn’t fulfilling her role as hostess.

“Let me take your bag, have a seat.”

Gordon tugged the strap of his duffel bag over his head and opened it up to withdraw a small pretty box.

“For you.”

Their fingers brushed as Belle took the box from his hand sending a shiver of electricity through her, she was almost certain she heard Gordon gasp. She looked up at his face and the offer to brew some of his gift died on her lips. His pupils were wide and dark, his throat bobbed as he swallowed; she was entranced by his tongue darting over his bottom lip.

“How are you planning on tying me up tonight?”

Belle turned to place the box of tea on the coffee table and then took his hand and led him to the guest bedroom. She had to deliberately tame her steps, not wanting to drag him along, but his cane was tapping rapidly on the wooden floor as he followed close behind her. She’d spent a lot of time getting this room ready for them tonight, but she felt a flutter of nerves as she guided Gordon inside. She knew the instant that he smiled at the claret rope she’d laid out that she had no need to worry. He plucked at his shirt collar in acknowledgement of how closely matched the rope was to it, but the smile on his face faltered a little when he caught sight of her drawing supplies.

“I can move those. I just got them ready in case you were willing.”

She chewed on her lip as he considered her offer; she hoped she’d not dampened the enthusiasm that has shone in his eyes moments ago. Gordon’s head dipped forward, his hair fell forward obscuring his face.

“I suppose that for you to draw me I’d have to be bound for more than twenty minutes, wouldn’t I?”

There was a hopeful wheedle to his tone that made her grin.

“Yes, I would need to keep you tied up for quite a while.”

His fingers tightened on the rope he was toying with, and she heard his breathy little sigh before he raised his eyes to hers.

“Yes, please draw me,” He raised his finger to add a caveat, “But only from the neck down.”

Belle nodded rapidly in agreement, “Of course Gordon. Thank you. Would you like to use the bathroom before we start?”

“Yes, I’ll go and strip off.” 

She pointed the way to the bathroom for him, as he move by her she caught his arm and quietly asked; “Would you let me take your shirt off again?”

He looked a little surprised by her request, but nodded his head and hurried into the bathroom. When faced with the mirror he took a moment to wonder about the thing that had passed between them when he gave her his gift. He had seen the desire wash over her as their fingers touched, he’d felt it himself. Belle was attracted to him. A few hours ago he would have laughed at the very idea, but now the possibility was making him smile. He’d been burned by love before, so even with the giddy thrill of attraction returned singing in his veins he wasn’t going to act like a green Romeo and declare his heart for Belle this instant. They could enjoy this evening and see how things developed between them.

Belle waited until he had placed his suit jacket on the back of a chair and toed his shoes off before she approached him and smoothed her hands over his shoulders and down his chest to the buttons of his shirt.

“Safeword and colour please.”

“Spinner. Green.”

Her fingers plucked the buttons free sending delicious shivers over Gold’s skin.

“Now I’m going to ask you to sit on the edge of the bed while I tie the chest harness I have in mind, then I have you sit against the headboard so I can bind your hands. Does that sound acceptable?”

“Yes Belle.”

She slipped her hands under his shirt; “And your request from last time, about me using you for my happy ending, does that stand?”

“Oh yes Belle, yes please.”

“Frottage only tonight. You understand?”

He nodded, “Of course.”

Belle rubbing herself to pleasure against his clothed and bound body had appeared in several of his fantasies. Apparently his skull had turned to glass, because Belle stood on tip toe and whispered in his ear; “Have you thought about me bringing myself off on you like that?”

He gulped and nodded. Her breathe ghosted over the shell of his ear again as she said; “Good, so have I.”

Before he could process that delightful image Belle pushed his shirt from his shoulders and let it drop onto the chair behind him. Her hands drifted down his arms and captured his wrists, gently pulling him towards the bed. Once he was seated Belle ran her fingers over his chest, mapping out in her mind’s eye where the ropes and knots would lay against his skin. 

Gordon sighed as he felt himself relax into her touch. His eyes must have slipped closed because the first sweep of the rope came as a surprise. The texture was familiar.

“Silk?”

“Yes, does it feel okay?”

“Feels wonderful.”

Belle worked the knots letting the rope slide over his skin. Gordon was wonderfully vocal, his gasps and whimpers as each knot was secured thrilled her. He squirmed against her hands and giggled when she drew the rope over his nipple. She paused for a moment and added a knot in the rope before continuing. The knot sat over his nipple teasing the sensitive nub. Gordon let out a deep groan and his head lolled back on his neck.

“Oh Belle.”

His voice was sing-song giggly, and he squirmed against the ropes. Belle let him do as he pleased for a moment, but then caught his face between her hands and held his face until he opened his eyes and looked at her.

“You are going to have to hold still, Gordon. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes Belle.”

It felt like no time at all before Belle was tying the last knot and stepping back to take a look at her work. Gordon gave her a dopey smile and spread his arms wide to give her a clear view. Belle licked her lips; the claret rope was beautiful against his skin, richer than the gold and enhancing the flush that had risen across his throat and chest. She stepped in closer and tweaked one of the ropes, tightening a knot into a perfect position. Gordon’s brow creased just a little and she knew that he was trying to find words.

“There’s a line about draw me like a French girl, but you are a French girl.”

Belle chuckled and ran her hands over his shoulders, “That’s true, but I’m not done binding you yet Gordon.”

“How do you want me?”

“Flat on your back and writhing under me.”

Belle blushed as she said it, but every word was true. When she’d planned tonight she’d pictured Gordon sitting against the headboard, his arms extended and bound, but now she wanted him prone, arms above his head. He must have read her mind because he lay back on the bed and assumed that very pose. The tenting of his trousers was more obvious now and made Belle aware of her own arousal.

“Oh yes, just like that. Are you comfortable?”

He shifted his right leg, but nodded. 

“Gordon, are you sure you are comfortable?”

“Yes Belle.”

Gordon offered her his wrists, wiggling his fingers in invitation. Happy with his answer, but deciding to keep a close eye on his right leg just in case, Belle began to work a column knot about each of his wrists. She preferred this style over basic handcuff knots as it was aesthetical pleasing and couldn’t be tightened by wriggling. Once the knots were done Belle climbed onto the bed and swung her leg over Gordon’s hips. It was a bit of a stretch for her to reach to loop the trailing ends of the rope around the headboard, but she couldn’t resist straddling him. 

Gordon let out a sinful groan as Belle’s breasts came within inches of his face. His hips bucked up seeking any friction for his throbbing cock. Her hair fell around his face forming a curtain that shut out the world leaving him surrounded by only Belle.

“Getting impatient are you?”

“Very horny.”

She leaned in close enough to rub the tip of her nose against his, “Me too.”

She sat up slowly; he craned his neck up not sure if he was chasing her lips for a kiss, or just to stay close to her. The ropes that held his wrists kept his from her, but she lowered her hips and rubbed herself over his cock. Their gasps combined and filled the room with the sound of pleasure. He struggled to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of the beauty before him, but he was overwhelmed by sensation; the grind of her hips, the friction of his clothing over his cock, the smooth tug of the ropes on his skin. And it wasn’t enough.

“Yellow.”

Belle froze, “Gordon what’s wrong?”

“Want to touch you. To hold you.”

Belle nodded and rose on her knees to tug at the ropes tied to the headboard, with a swift movement the knots came free and Gordon’s arms were loose. Belle settled back and waited as he hesitantly reached for her hips. When he didn’t close the distant between them she caught hold of the rope trailing from each wrist and used it to pull his hands onto her body. His face dissolved into bliss and his fingers gripped her. 

“Colour?”

“Green.”

The word came out as a groan, but she understood and began to grind against him again. The feeling of his fingers squeezing her hips, the rocking push and pull of him thrusting into her movements and the delicious friction between her legs brought her close her peak in moments. Beneath her Gordon was arching and whispering her name over and over again, his skin flushed and sweat breaking out on his chest under the silken claret ropes. Her orgasm rippled through her, a gentle sigh of pleasure. 

“Come for me Gordon.”

His teeth bit his bottom lip and his hips jerked as he rutted against her sensitive core. Belle gasped and wondered how much more intense this would feel were they naked. Gordon’s body tensed as he came with a stuttering cry that could have been her name.

The trailing ends of rope slid through her lax fingers as Gordon moved his hand up her back and pulled her down on to his chest. They lay cuddled together and content in the afterglow until Gordon suddenly chuckled.

“You were going to draw me.”

Belle traced her finger tip over the ropes across his chest.

“I still can, if you’re happy to stay tied up.”

Gordon’s response was to raise his hands toward the headboard and murmur in her ear, “Green.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who voted for this fic in the 2018 TEAs. It means so much to me to win Best Smut Kink. Thank you again and enjoy the new chapter :)

‘The Thomas Crown Affair’, that was the name of the film that had been eluding him for the past ten minutes. Sat in his study with a glass of scotch in one hand and Belle’s sketch given pride of place on his desk he felt like Crown looking at his stolen artwork. Of course, he had been gifted this sketch by Belle, but the nature of it certainly gave his viewing a furtive air.

His finger hovered just above the page Belle had caressed with her pencil to create the image of silken ropes bound over his torso. Her skill was breath-taking, she had made him look good. He shifted in his seat as the images brought back the memories of that night. Belle had used his body to bring herself to orgasm, and the sight of her head thrown back in bliss was seared into his memory.

He looked down at his crotch were his cock was starting to plump up. He’d not been lying to Belle in their first conversation about Shibari, a physical reaction wasn’t usual for him when he was tied. Yet from their first session Belle’s rope skills had made him rock hard, and what was very new was that he wanted to get off while he was tied up. In the past he’d either not got an erection, which had annoyed some of his former partners, or had become hard but he’d waited until he was untied and alone before he took himself in hand.

With a deep sigh he leaned back in his chair and let himself swivel from side to side. The difference was obvious; Belle. They had been friends for years, but apart from a few stray dreams he’d never considered her as a romantic partner. He snorted to himself and rocked forward in his chair to grab his glass from the desk. Long before Belle had come to Storybrooke he had decided that his dating life was over and done with. He’d been happy with her friendship, but since discovering their shared passion, greedy soul that he was, he wanted more.

It wasn’t just for the sex, although if that was a tenth as good as he suspected it would be, it would be the best he’d ever had. He wanted everything with Belle; the dates, the dinners, the holding hands and kissing in public; he wanted to be there for her when she was ill or feeling down, to spoil her on her birthday; to cuddle up in bed together and talk about their days; to wake up side by side with bed head and morning breath, but still share a kiss; he wanted her to join him at family dinners, to play games with her and Henry while Neal and Emma laughed at the three of them.

He was smitten, simple as that. The question was, what the hell was he going to do about it? He took a sip of his scotch and smiled at the sketch again. The sketch was unfinished, the lines of his hips fading to blank paper. He’d let his bad leg go into pins and needles that night because he hadn’t wanted to interrupt Belle while she was drawing. She’d noticed the discomfort on his face and called red. It had taken her only a moment to cut him free and begin to massage his aching leg. Once the feeling was back she’d left the room to fetch him a drink.

He’d never had a Dom end a session with a safeword before and the shock of it had sent him into a panic, all manner of nasty thoughts ran wild through his head; that Belle was angry with him, that she would refuse to tie him ever again, that she would out him to the town so that they could share in her disdain of his perversion. Not a lick of it made sense, but he was so far into subdrop that he accepted every word and began to hyperventilate.

Belle had rushed back into the room and wrapped her arms around him, offering him soothing words and a shoulder to sob on. She’d pulled a blanket from somewhere and wrapped it around him, it had taken her almost ten minutes to calm him to the point that he could explain what was going on in his head.

She had firmly reassured him that none of his worries were true, and gently explained that she had safeworded because he was in pain. Gordon closed his eyes as he recalled how she had stroked his face as she explained that when he was bound his comfort was her responsibility. She’d apologised for not checking in with him first but admitted that the pain on his face had made her panic. She’d promised to never be that abrupt again in exchange for his promise to bring any level of discomfort to her attention immediately.

The memory of Belle’s arms around him made him shiver with pleasure. She’d held him for hours until he was in a fit state to go home, and then texted him to check he was alright before she went to sleep. He’d never felt so cared for.

Gordon sat up and stared at the far wall for a long moment. Was he confusing Belle’s care and attention as a Dom with romantic feelings? It was possible. He poured himself another finger of scotch. He’d never had a friend as a Dom before, and although their interaction after their first session had been stilted and difficult, they had successfully communicated and quickly returned to normal.

He laughed out loud at the sheer simplicity of the epiphany that had just hit him. He would talk to Belle about his feelings. It was best to be honest, if he tried to hide this from her he was certain to blurt it out while he was in subspace and that would make her uncomfortable. He would ask her out for dinner, take her somewhere nice out of town, or perhaps offering to cook here was best? Yes, that way if Belle felt the need to go home it would be easily done to call her a taxi. He was hoping that she wouldn’t want to leave when he declared his feelings for her, but he wanted the option there for her.

Gordon finished his scotch and carefully put Belle’s sketch in his safe. He was feeling happy now he had a plan. True he’d come up with it while a little tipsy, but he wasn’t so drunk that he was reaching for his cell to text Belle at this very moment. If it still seemed like a good idea in the morning he would drop into the library on Monday and invite Belle to dinner.


	10. Chapter 10

He’d come up with a plan to ask Belle out on a date. Apparently tipsy-him had wanted to make sure that he remembered that because he’d left a note for morning-him on the kettle. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d added edible body paint to the list of groceries he’d need to cook a romantic meal for Belle. Ah yes, he had spent some time last night wondering what it would be like for Belle to use his bound body like a paint-by-numbers canvas. A pleasant shudder ran through him at the thought, maybe Belle would be willing to indulge him their next rope session.

He carefully tore that section off his list. He wanted this to be an ordinary dinner date, where they would hopefully take as the first steps to developing a romantic relationship. Shibari would be a part of their lives together, but in his mind, this was about them exploring the potential of other aspects.

He was feeling good about his plan, happy even.

All in all, asking Belle out on a date was a very good idea.

 

It still a good idea during lunch with Neal, Emma and Henry. And still a good idea as he watched Emma and Henry play football while Neal washed-up. And still a good idea as he had a soak in the bath that evening. When he closed his eyes on Sunday night he knew for sure that he was going to ask Belle out on a real date the next day.

His dreams were all sweet, soft focus of hand holding and cuddles, laughter and joy. So perversely, come Monday morning his nerves were in tatters and he was re-thinking and second guessing his plan. He and Belle were friends and they had a perfectly pleasant arrangement to indulge their mutual kink. To ask for more would be foolish, best to leave well alone.

By lunchtime he was second guessing his nerves. Perhaps the risk was worth it? At the worst she would decide that she no longer wished to tie him, but he’d gone without that for years, he could easily go without it again. Or she could be so offended by his interest in her that she’d stop speaking to him altogether, which was a terrifying idea because he would miss her friendship.

Until three o’clock he dithered back and forth between confidence of success, conviction of failure and some strange middle ground that he couldn’t put a name to. Finally, he decided he was being an idiot. He grabbed his cane and hurried out of his shop. Halfway across the road the stray thought that he’d not locked the shop crossed his mind and was instantly dismissed. Emma would find the thief in the unlikely event that someone took the chance of stealing from him. If he turned around now he’d chicken out, and since he was now at the library door turning back would be silly.

Belle was behind the circulation desk. She smiled up at him in greeting; “Hello Mr Gold, I was beginning to think I’d have no visitors until after school. It’s been so quiet today, I suppose everyone is taking advantage of the nice weather…”

She trailed off and hurried around the desk to stand in front of him.

“Gordon are you alright? You look anxious.”

He cleared his throat and tried to remember how to breath. He was a grown-man, damn it, not a wee laddie asking out his first crush.

“I’m very well Belle. I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me on Friday?”

She tilted her head to one side and nibbled at her bottom lip for an instant.

“Do you want to renegotiate our contract?”

He shook his head rapidly; “No, no nothing like that! I’m asking you out on a date.”

“A real date,” – her lips quirk slightly, - “no strings attached?”

Some of the tension in him eased as he chuckled at her joke; “Yes Belle, a real date, with flowers and candles and romantic music, and no strings attached.”

She moved in close enough to run a finger along his tie; “And what about a kiss at the end of the evening?”

He swallowed and managed to say; “If you are willing, I think that a kiss could be arranged.”

The tip of her tongue swept over her bottom lip; “And if I didn’t want to wait until the end of Friday night for a kiss…”

He dipped his head down slowly; “I could accommodate your impatience…”

He pressed a gentle chase kiss to her lips and moved back to gauge her reaction. Her eyelashes were fluttering and the was a smile on her lips. She opened her eyes and the smile became a smirk. With a sharp tug on his tie their lips crashed back together, and all hesitancy vanished.

Gold released his cane in favour of gripping her waist. He heard it skitter across the front of the desk and clatter to the floor, but he was to busy teasing the tip of Belle’s tongue with his own to care. Her hands moved from his tie and slid over his chest to his shoulders. It didn’t take them long to tangle in the hair trailing over his shirt collar.

His leg gave a twinge and rather than stop kissing Belle to retrieve his cane, he twisted them sideways, pinning her between his body and the desk. Belle hummed and sucked on his bottom lip, which he took as her approval for their new position.

Belle tensed as the library door banged open.

“I’m gonna get the comfy chair Dad!”

Henry’s voice caused Gold to stumble backwards from Belle. His bad leg gave out under him and he landed hard on his arse on the floor at her feet. In his race for the best chair Henry apparently hadn’t even noticed his Grandpa kissing the librarian. It turned out that his son was not as unobservant as his grandson.

“Slow down Henry! Pops? What happened to you?”

Belle was already crouching down to help him up. She blocked Neal’s view with her body and quickly swiped her thumb across Gold’s lip to remove the smudge of lipstick. His eyes widen at the smeared mess on her own lips and quickly pointed at her mouth as he said; “Let Neal help me up please Miss French. He’s had practise.”

She took his diversion as he intended and kept her head down as she moved to let Neal assist him.

“One, two, three. There we go Pops. Lean on the counter while I get your cane. What happened?”

Gold took his cane from Neal and shrugged; “Just a cramp at the wrong time, y’know how that can throw me off. I’m fine.”

Neal didn’t look completely reassured; “You look a bit flushed, not coming down with anything are you?”

“No, but thank you for drawing attention to my embarrassment, son.”

“Sorry, Pops. What you doing here at this time of day anyway?”

“I, erm …”

He winced, all he could think about was kissing Belle and he didn’t want to share that information with his son right now.

“You mentioned something about a book you were in need of. Let me see if I can find it for you.”

Neal nodded, “Okay, I’m just gonna check on Henry. I’ll walk you back across to the shop, Pops.”

He jogged away into the stacks. Belle grinned at Gold and gently squeezed his arm.

“Really are you alright, Gordon?”

He covered her hand with his own; “I am. Are you?”

“Yeah, very alright. Now shall we make up a book I need to order in for you?”

 

Neal walked him back to the shop and Gold had the presence of mind to pretend to unlock the door. He waved Neal away when he tried to linger and fuss about a heating pad.

“I’m fine. Go read to Henry. Drop in when your done so I can hear about his book.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll see you later.”

Once Neal left the shop he finally let the smile that had been wanting to bloom on his face curl his lips. He’d kissed Belle. She’d kissed him.

His phone bleeped, and his smile grew even wider when he saw a message from Belle.

_How about dinner tomorrow instead of Friday?_

_I like your impatience. 8pm, my house?_

_Wonderful xxx_


End file.
